


Running Out of Time

by Krewella, orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Multi, Not a damn tragedy, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:43:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2072175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewella/pseuds/Krewella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A zombie apocalypse/soulmate AU where Michael falls in love even though he wasn't planning on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Out of Time

Michael woke to gunfire. He started, body jerking upwards instinctually, right hand on the butt of his revolver and the other gripping the pocket knife strapped to his thigh. The rush of his fight instincts roared through his veins like wildfire before they fizzled. 

The gunfire came again, but now out of sleep Michael could tell it was far away. He figured it would be smarter to lay low rather than confront whoever it was. Putting down the gun his eyes strayed to the TiMer on his wrist, sighing. There were only a few months to go and he'd been dreading the day since he could remember. 

Another round of fire rang through the air, and Michael wondered if someone had stumbled into the horde adjacent from the hospital. It'd taken him ages to figure out the hot spots of Austin, wandering into whole buildings full of dead eyed, gaping mouthed monsters. If anyone had opened the doors to that hell of a building they weren't going to survive. 

Slipping into his boots and musing if he could risk looting the bodies Michael was frozen by rapid footfalls--two people stomping their way into his base. His hand was on the revolver again before he could really think about it, barrel aimed straight at the steel door protecting him from the outside. Michael moved behind to stand behind the desk he used for storage, front of his knees to the metal, pulse elevated, head straight so he could still see the entrance. 

Regret coursed through him. He'd been too tired last night to put anything against the door, something he never should’ve overlooked. The door banged the concrete wall as it flew open and in stumbled two girls. They instantly pressed their backs to the door, but their faces turned to each other.

Michael muttered to himself about the noise level these girls were making. Did they want to be found again by biters?! Judging by their heavy breathing and bent over forms, they just narrowly escaped a horde. The distant growling and groaning of the zombies drifted through the cracks, but for now, the building was secure. 

Somehow, the girls hadn’t yet spotted him even though he was standing out in the open like a goddamn fool. He wedged himself behind a cabinet and waited until he heard the breathing start to slow and the sound of footsteps on linoleum start up again. Risking another glance at the pair, he noted they seemed around his age and didn’t look particularly dangerous. 

In fact, the one with red hair seemed to be injured. Her hand was pressed tightly to her side as blood trickled through the gaps of her fingers, but it didn’t look like that was doing much. Michael was no expert but it was probably serious. 

"Christ Linds, I told you to stay back." The blonde pulled her friends fingers from the gash, revealing a few shards of small glass wedged into her skin. 

Michael winced, but the redhead just grit her teeth. "You would've been dead, you should be thanking me!" 

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the blonde roughly yanked out the largest glass piece. "Barbara, fuck!" Blood spilled from the wound, and Michael closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. These girls, he thought, are something else. 

"Fuck, shirt off." The redhead scrambled to do as told, cursing lowly. Michael attempted not to be affected by the pretty redhead’s chest, but it was right there and it’d been awhile. So he allowed himself a few seconds of outright leering before getting back to the matter at hand. Plus, he was usually a decent guy; this was just a moment of weakness. 

"Alright," Barbara said, wrapping gauze tight around the wound, "we haven't got shit to clean it with and this is the last of our first aid." Her voice was grim, lips tight. "Think you'll be able to hold up?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I think so. How far are we from a store?" 

"Fuck Lindsay, I don't know, we might've passed some running but I'm not sure. I'll scope tomorrow, we've gotta settle here for now." 

Michael tried to press himself deeper into the cabinet, but he couldn't hide for much longer. That and he couldn't let--Lindsay?-- get a goddamned infection when he knew exactly were the safest store was. 

Taking a deep breath Michael moved from his spot. "I might be able to help you out?" His hands shot into the air as the blonde one--Barbara?-- instantly pulled a pistol on him. 

“Jesus, I’m just offering to help. If I wanted to kill you, you would both already be dead. Put the fucking gun down already,” Michael said, taking a few steps back in an attempt to convey his point. 

Barbara only pointed the gun to the ground, keeping her hard glare locked on Michael. “Barb, let him go. We can’t exactly run,” Lindsay sighed, wincing as the gauze shifted across the wound. 

Barbara muttered to herself a bit longer before slipping the pistol back into her holster. “How are you going to help us?” 

Michael straightened up a bit further, hoping it made him look more authoritative. “Yeah, uh, there’s a store nearby here, yeah.” Way to lose your cool, idiot. 

“I can give you directions, and you can be on your way,” Michael declared, deciding it was the safest way. He would get these girls out of his building but still have a clear conscience because he helped Lindsay.

“No, I don’t trust you,” Barbara replied sharply, breaking her gaze to glance at Lindsay who silently nodded her agreement. “You’re taking us there and giving us lodging for the night.”

“What am I, your servant?” Barbara only leveled him with the end of her pistol. “Fuck, fine, I’ll take you. But that’s it, you’re leaving as soon as you get what you need. There’s only room for one here,” Michael asserted.

Barbara looked like she was about to argue again, but Michael made sure they knew he wouldn’t hesitate to pull his gun on them. They weren’t the only ones with an upper hand. 

Keeping his hand at his holster, he guided them back out into the open. No matter how often he stepped outside, he still shivered slightly at the implications of open space. Openness meant hordes and hordes almost always meant imminent death. 

However, he was a big boy, and he didn’t plan to showcase his weaknesses to these girls he definitely didn’t trust. 

“So, Mr. I-Know-What-I’m-Doing, where is this store?” Lindsay piped up, leaning heavily on Barbara for support. 

“Uh, maybe a mile away? Shouldn’t be too bad. Been there before; hordes seem to avoid it,” Michael replied, chancing a glance back at the pair. They seemed a bit closer than usual, but he brushed it off as the apocalypse making people want to cling what they still had. 

Not like he’d know, having nothing anyway.

“You know, you’re being awfully nice for someone who hasn’t even introduced himself yet,” Barbara pointed out. 

“Well, neither have you,” Michael retorted, “but it’s Michael. Michael Jones.”

“I’m Barbara and this lovely lady is Lindsay,” Barbara said, confirming Michael’s initial assumptions. 

“Cool, whatever,” Michael replied gruffly, intending to keep any conversation to a bare minimum. He didn’t want them to get any ideas and hang around him any longer than this trip to the store. 

“Someone’s a bit uptight,” Lindsay teased, noting how Michael flushed slightly at her words. 

“Listen, you can either shut the fuck up and I’ll keep going or we can go ahead and say our goodbyes now,” Michael shot back, signaling an end to the conversation. 

The rest of the trip was rather mundane. Just empty wasteland stretching on for miles and no one in sight.  
~

The silence was finally broken when they approached a dingy convenience store with a few of the neon lights still flickering. The doors had been wrenched off their hinges long ago and the frame was splintered from the force of it. 

“Home sweet home,” Michael gestured grandly and trudged inside, not particularly caring if the girls followed him or not. 

The place was mostly ransacked with the food either gone or spoiled. Any other commodities were sparse, but judging by Barbara and Lindsay’s squeals, they found something useful. 

They returned with a few rolls of gauze in hand as well as a bottle of nearly expired disinfectant. It wasn’t even close to the care Lindsay required, but it would be enough to help her get by. 

Michael saw this as his cue to take their separate ways, and he began to make his way back down the path they came from. 

“Michael, wait up!” Lindsay called, waving at him to slow down as Barbara stuffed their find into her bag. 

“I got you to the store, just like I promised. I’m leaving now. So are you. Goodbye,” Michael turned on his heel and intended to make a break for it if it meant leaving these girls behind. He was already afraid that they had stuck around too long. 

Not that he would ever admit it to himself, but Michael Jones was insecure. He always thought his personality was too much. People usually called him an asshole before they called him a friend and he played up that fact. 

He’d rather be an asshole with no friends than risk having people who could hurt him even more. Friends would only leave and he would be alone again. Fuck that. Better to have never loved at all than have loved and lost or some shit like that. Or maybe it was the other way around. Fuck if he knew. He’d barely paid enough attention in school. 

While he had been pondering life’s mysteries, Barbara and Lindsay had caught up to him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I already told you to get lost. Fuckin’ leave me alone, Jesus Christ.”

“But Michael, we need a big strong man like you to keep us safe,” Lindsay insisted, pouting a little. Her flirtatious tone made Michael bristle, his eyes darting to Barbara; she only raised her eyebrows intimidatingly before rolling her eyes.

“Tell that to your scary friend over there,” Michael responded. Said friend looked pleased by his comment, taking it as a compliment. 

“Okay, fine, maybe we don’t need you, specifically, but we really need somewhere to stay for tonight. C’mon, we’ll be out of your hair by morning!” Lindsay pleaded. 

“Absolutely not, you two are fucking annoying enough as is. I don’t care how pretty you are; you’re not coming with me,” Michael huffed. 

In that instant, Barbara sidled up to him with her gun drawn, its press cold against his ribs. “Okay, big guy, you have two choices: the easy way or the hard way. What’s it gonna be?” 

“Fucking fine, don’t pull that bullshit, you guys can stay. I don’t have time to put up with this,” Michael grumbled, running a hand through the grime of his hair. He was honestly too tired to care about being threatened, besides, Barbara looked like the type to bark more than she bit. 

Barbara brightened and returned to Lindsay’s side and they chattered happily amongst themselves as Michael brooded by himself in front of them. 

~ 

By the time they reached the hospital, night had begun to fall and hordes were more likely to attack. The doors were shut quickly behind them and the nightly chill finally set in. 

Wrapping her arms around herself, Barbara was about to ask where they would stay for the night when Lindsay let out a sound of pain. 

“You okay, Linds?” Barbara asked worriedly, moving Lindsay’s hand to examine the bandages. 

“It’s nothing, probably, Barb, I’m fine,” Lindsay shoved away her friend to look at it herself. She had bled through the gauze, the spot slowly growing larger and darker. 

“No you’re not, Lindsay, let me get the gauze, hold on,” Barbara rifled through her pack and pulled out the disinfectant as well as a new roll of gauze. 

Michael was entirely fine with letting them deal with their own medical problems when Lindsay shyly called out his name. 

“Would you help me change this, Michael? I love Barbara, but she’s a bit too heavy handed. Definitely not suited to be a nurse,” Lindsay giggled when Barbara smacked her shoulder. 

“Uh, sure, yeah?” Michael stumbled over his answer, obviously flustered. 

He went to grab the medical supplies when Lindsay reached over and grabbed his forearm. “I’d really like it if we could go somewhere more private, if you know what I mean,” Lindsay winked. 

“Totally! I mean, uh, just follow me. There’s an extra room this way.” Michael offered, helping Lindsay to her feet. 

“That would be fantastic,” Lindsay grinned, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Unseen by Michael, Barbara pursed her lips around a sly, sarcastic grin. 

Michael led Lindsay down a hallway and turned into the second room they passed. 

Lindsay took a quick scan of the room before she realized this was were Michael kept all his supplies. There were stocks of ammunition for months and the food was enough for at least a few weeks. 

“Here, you can lay down on this cot. It’s kinda shitty, but better than the ground, I guess.”

Lindsay carefully took off her shirt as she had done the first time and this time Michael tried to keep his eyes respectfully elsewhere. 

He removed the stained gauze, his eyes flitting nervously before settling on Lindsay’s wrist. “Holy fuck,” he muttered without thinking. 

Lindsay followed his gaze, her lips twisting. “Ah, yeah. I had a bit of a freakout when the numbers went blank. Barb was there-- it wasn’t a pretty sight.” She shrugged, “I’m over it. I don’t give much credit to TiMers nowadays.” Her face brightened from its gloom when she caught sight of his TiMer, still counting down. “You’re close,” she said, wincing as he wiped a little too hard. 

“Ah, yeah,” he licked his lips, reaching for the unsoiled gauze. “I don’t give them much credit either. The TiMers that is.” 

“I guess we’re more alike than I thought then,” Lindsay smiled, wincing as she sat up to get redressed. “Thanks, Michael,” she said, grasping his hand before resuming her shy persona. She knew it made the man blush and personally, she found it endearing. 

“No problem, Lindsay,” Michael replied, returning her gaze.

Just as he finally decided to go for it and start leaning in, Barbara burst in through the door. “Alright, lovebirds, I think it’s time for all of us to get to bed!” 

Michael jumped back as if he’d been burned and adjusted his shirt unnecessarily. “Right, okay, so you guys can stay in here. Barbara, I can get you another cot, just let me go grab one.”

“I’ll be fine, Michael, don’t worry about me,” Barbara replied cheerily. 

Perhaps that should’ve set something off for Michael, but at this point, all he wanted to see was the inside of his eyelids. The stint with Lindsay kept replaying in his brain and he was embarrassed beyond belief. 

“Goodnight, then,” Michael shut the door behind himself and promptly passed out on the nearest comfortable surface he found. 

~

The next morning came barrelling in faster than Michael would’ve preferred. The sunlight streamed in through the shattered windows lining the hospital’s walls. He stumbled to his feet blearily, knowing that if he didn’t snap out of it quickly enough he would be at risk. The biters would still be wandering, and they could easily walk upon them.

Wondering if Barbara and Lindsay had gotten up yet, he knocked lightly on the door to his supply room. When he didn’t get a response, he pushed open the door.

What he saw was something he never would’ve expected, but he supposed he should’ve. 

The shelves were a wreck. The previously well stocked ammunition case was empty and all his food had been sorted through and the lightweight nonperishables taken. Any weapons that remained were the ones he kept on his person at all times: his knife and his revolver. Well, they left the axe and shovel, but he figured that was a strength issue instead an act of generosity.

The revolver would soon become useless without his stock of ammunition and the melee weapons would get stuck in the zombies, a dangerous pursuit. 

The final straw was the hastily scribbled note affixed to the cot: “Nice try, loverboy, but did you really think she would fall for you? - B”

Michael stared. He’d been duped. It was in that moment, he recalled why he never trusted people. Rage burned the insides of his eyelids. He'd been such an idiot. There were no friends now, just enemies and temporary allies. A dark part of him hoped the girls turned on one another, but he shook the thought from his brain. 

People fucking sucked, he decided, sifting through the rubble.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to a new AU that is Krewella&I's brainchild! 
> 
> We hope you absolutely love it!  
> And all feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated :) <3


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